


somebody waits for you

by ddagent



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Christmas, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Kissing, Mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:49:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22035838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddagent/pseuds/ddagent
Summary: During the Sevenmas season, Brienne is inundated with invitations. Seven nights. Seven parties. Seven kisses with Jaime Lannister.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 100
Kudos: 405
Collections: Sevenmas & Other Winter Holidays





	somebody waits for you

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly don't know how this happened. I was writing a prompt: "*gasp* there is a party somewhere and jaime makes sure to always meet brienne under a mistletoe ((I have no idea if mistletoes even exist in westeros but you know.... it could probably be any other plant as well ^^))" by the incredible remuslovestonks, and here we are. Lyrics are taken from 'A Holly Jolly Christmas' by Lady Antebellum (at least, that's the version I listen to). 
> 
> I hope you enjoy, and happy Sevenmas!

> **From Jaime Lannister:** _Don't forget my party tonight. Seven pm, you just need to bring yourself. Here's my address. Looking forward to seeing you, Tarth._

Brienne glanced once more at her phone and the reminder from Jaime about his Sevenmas party. She tugged at the hem of her dress, teased her hair into some form of life, and then reached for the small pot of lipgloss. Her fingertips brushed her mouth; Brienne unsure why she was going to so much trouble. It wasn't as if she _knew_ that Jaime would kiss her tonight. But then she recalled the previous six parties she – and Jaime – had attended in King's Landing this holiday season and continued her ministrations. 

I

> **MERRY SEVENMAS!**
> 
> _You are cordially invited to the EVENT of the season. Dress code is casual, open bar is included, fun is encouraged. Don't tell the Great Giant as you will ALL be on the naughty list after this party!_
> 
> _Margaery x_

The first Sevenmas party of the season was _always_ hosted by Margaery Tyrell. The heiress and Brienne had met at university; Lannister, Lannister, and Marbrand were the law firm of choice for the old money in King’s Landing, including House Tyrell. Of course, Brienne knew Jaime from outside Margaery’s party. It was only that morning that they had been in court; Jaime defending some millionaire’s son on charges of vandalism and breaking-and-entering, while Brienne tried to push for the wealthiest in Westeros to face _some_ consequences. It was yet another back-and-forth between them; another nod and smile as they left the courthouse, only one a victor. 

Today, the victory went to Brienne. As such, she had done her level-best to avoid Jaime, lest he draw her into a debate about today's case. She managed it, too, until they both found themselves in the kitchen at the same time. Brienne was nursing a gin and tonic at the marble breakfast bar; Jaime was darting across the Valyria tile to search for the good stuff Margaery hid out of sight of her guests. The waitstaff ignored them both, even as Jaime snagged a bottle. Brienne, still wanting to avoid that conversation, attempted to leave. 

“You didn’t see me, Tarth,” he called out to her. 

“I’m an eyewitness to a crime,” she said, cheeks flushed and feeling jovial despite being at a party with people she didn’t know. A win in court always did that. “It’s my duty to come forward.”

Bottle in hand, Jaime closed the distance between them. Brienne stepped backwards until she felt the doorframe against her spine. This was it. This was the conversation that she had been dreading. She should have left Jaime to his own devices; this wouldn't be like the last debate, where he had cut her to the quick with the truth about his former client. There would be no soft underbelly to expose; no endearing looks, just brutal law. But Jaime wasn't preparing an argument. He was looking above her, and then down at her mouth. “Will a kiss buy your silence?” 

Brienne stuttered, quickly surprised at the warm pressure of Jaime’s mouth on hers, before the defence attorney disappeared into the night. She remained baffled by his actions until one of the waitstaff pointed at the mistletoe above her. _Oh._

II

> **INVITATION TO THE SELA ANNUAL FUNDRAISER**
> 
> _Dear B. Tarth, you are invited to the SELA Annual Fundrasier hosted by Robert Baratheon and Cersei Lannister, Stannis and Selyse Baratheon, and Renly Baratheon and Loras Tyrell. Dress code is formal; all proceeds from the bar will add to our donations made on the night. If you wish to contribute to the auction, please contact Renly Baratheon by the end of this week._

Brienne's second Sevenmas invitation was for the annual Baratheon fundraiser that raised donations for the Storm's End Lifeboat Association. While a worthy cause, Brienne would have been perfectly happy to donate and skip the party altogether. But she went to support her old law school pal, Renly, who always felt uncomfortable hosting this event with his estranged older brothers. So, as usual, she and Loras buoyed him all night as Robert and his wife steadily drank, and Stannis and his other half tried to convert as many of the guests as possible to his latest wellness craze. Brienne was grateful when the brothers made their toasts and calls for donations, and she could grab her coat and go home. 

“Leaving so soon?” 

Jaime Lannister’s voice echoed through the empty foyer. Brienne turned; the sides of her wool coat remaining undone as she stared, surprised to find him there. Recognition kicked in after a moment. Renly's brother was unhappily married to Jaime's twin sister; the blonde steadily making her way through her _third_ bottle of wine. Not that Brienne should have forgotten: the Lannister twins were golden and beautiful. But, she supposed, that was where the resemblance ended. Cersei was a cruel drunk. Jaime was softer in his approach and usually sober. 

He had his moments, though. One eyebrow raised, he joined Brienne by the door. "Come on, surely Robert and my sweet sister have not driven you out into the cold _this_ early?" 

“Big case tomorrow.” 

“ _Ah_ ," he said, with a glint in his eye. "Well, if you need a sounding board—”

“—I’ll call someone who’s not representing the defendant.” Brienne looped her Tarth FC scarf around her neck. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Lannister.” 

“So you will.” He paused, no doubt intending to turn and rejoin the party. Brienne made for the door. “Oh, Tarth!”

She already had one foot out of the expensive King’s Landing townhouse when Jaime Lannister caught her. Perhaps she’d dropped a glove, or he wanted to rattle her with some comment before their case tomorrow. What Brienne did _not_ expect was for Jaime Lannister to reach up on his toes and plant his lips on hers. They were firm, and warm, and tasted faintly of the non-alcoholic cocktail the waitstaff had served for those underage, driving, or with an alcoholic twin sister. 

He pulled away sooner than Brienne would have liked. Then the man had the audacity to _wink._ “Robert does love to put mistletoe _everywhere.”_

Brienne looked up, once, before she rushed out the door. Of course it was the mistletoe again. Jaime Lannister wouldn't kiss her unless there was a tradition involved. 

III

> **From Sansa (Cat's daughter):** _B!!! PLS DON'T BE MAD, BUT I'M AT THIS PARTY AND THIS BOY DITCHED ME. CAN U PICK ME UP??? PLS DON'T TELL MUM!!!_

Brienne had been looking through witness statements when the message came through, and she was inadvertently invited to her third Sevenmas party. Sighing, she texted Sansa back, pulled on her trainers, and headed to a student flat in Fleabottom. The party was _not_ the sort of place Brienne would have gone to even as a teenager, and _certainly_ not the place she wanted to be on a Saturday night. The place was packed with university students, the DJ was playing loud club remixes of Sevenmas hits, and green and red alcohol was handed out in shot glasses. Brienne looked utterly out of place in her work clothes and running shoes. No more so than a tired Jaime Lannister with bedhead and a crumpled shirt, however. He caught sight of her over the crowd and waved. 

“I didn’t think this was your scene, Tarth!” he shouted over the din.

“Catelyn’s daughter called, asked me to pick her up.”

“My niece did the same!" Brienne recalled Myrcella from the Baratheon Fundraiser. She was around Sansa's age; maybe they both went to KLU. "It’s a pain in the arse being the cool aunt or uncle, isn’t it?” 

Brienne found herself laughing despite herself, the hour, and the music. She found herself softening in Jaime's presence, too, as she had earlier in court when a not-guilty verdict had been reached, and Jaime's client had embraced him, tears falling. She’d had her doubts about the case, but Randyll Tarly had insisted they pursue it. Jaime’s smile, the sheer _relief_ on his face that justice _had_ been done, had made Brienne realise she had stopped seeing him as yet another defence attorney in it for the money; a Lannister who would pay for verdicts with gold if he could. Jaime was _good,_ and _true,_ and she'd noticed a change in his case-load, too. LLM's pro bono quota was being provided by Jaime, and Jaime alone. 

" _Kiss me, kiss me, won't you just KISS ME!"_

The dance remix of _Underneath the Mistletoe_ blared around them, but Brienne didn't mind. Not when her heartbeat pounded along to the rhythm; nor when Jaime's mouth slanted over hers. Especially not when his hand cupped the back of her neck, and they kissed until both their names were yelled out by teenage girls. 

They split a polystyrene container of chips on the way home as both girls tried to sober up outside a takeaway place, and Brienne started to wonder when she and Jaime had become friends. 

IV

> **MERRY SEVENMAS FROM THE STARKS!**
> 
> _Brienne, please accept our invitation to our annual holiday party. Bran did the invitations on his computer; he's very proud of them, so if you could RSVP through him rather than me, I would be very grateful._

The Stark annual Sevenmas party was hosted, as usual, in Winterfell. Family, close friends, and the old Northern houses were the only ones who warranted an invite. Thankfully, Brienne fell into the second category. While her colleagues lamented spending their weekend Sevenmas shopping, Brienne signed her final paperwork and caught a taxi to the train station. While Cat was currently her boss, she had, at one time, been Brienne's lecturer and personal tutor at law school. Cat had seen something in her and had offered her a job when she'd taken over as head of the CPS. Brienne had grown close to the Starks in the intervening years. It was why Sansa had come to her when the boy she liked left her alone at that ridiculous party. It was why Robb had asked her advice about dropping a prenup with his (now failed) marriage to Talisa. 

It was why she was welcomed in Winterfell like one of the family; Rickon holding her legs while Arya challenged her to a snowball fight. 

Unfortunately, it also meant that said family tried to set her up _every_ Sevenmas. They had yet to learn what her father had years ago: that most men did not care for her appearance, and those that did always had a caveat. In the early days of their friendship, Catelyn had brought Brienne to every family function in the hopes of dissuading Robb from whatever girl he was currently dating. Tonight, it was Cousin Jon’s turn to bring a suitor. Tormund worked at the wildlife reserve with Catelyn’s nephew, and he visibly drooled over the length of her legs, the broadness of her shoulders. Brienne tried to avoid him as much as she could until she found herself underneath a sprig of mistletoe. 

“Ah, such a pretty little plant,” Tormund said, plucking it from the ceiling. “You know, it’s from the North. Grows fucking everywhere. Guess the Gods want us to kiss and fuck in honour of the new year.” 

Brienne prayed for a distraction. Brienne prayed for the strength not to knee Tormund in the testicles. The Maiden answered her prayers with the half-man, half-god who wore a Warrior Sevenmas jumper and a holly wreath atop his head. “Brienne!”

“Jaime?” She furrowed her brow; confused as to what the heir to Lannister, Lannister, and Marbrand would be doing _here._ Still, she welcomed the arm around her waist and his soft lips on the corner of her mouth. “Hi.”

“Sorry I’m late; got caught up with the children. If it helps, you are looking at the Queen of Love and Beauty in a snowball tournament.” Jaime grinned at her, and then at Tormund. “Ah, mistletoe. Thank you! I was looking for a sprig of that. Not that I need an excuse to kiss my girl.” 

And Jaime did just that. And if Brienne’s fingers found themselves teasing the golden strands at the nape of his neck, or tugging the knitwear of his jumper, then it was just to dissuade Tormund. Or because it was a Sevenmas tradition. Or, _hells,_ just because she wanted to. 

V

> **ATTENTION EMPLOYEES**
> 
> _The CPS annual Sevenmas party will be held in Snakeskin on the Street of Spirits. Ms Tully-Stark has kindly placed two hundred gold dragons behind the bar as she will not be in attendance. Dress code is casual. The Great Giant Gift Exchange will happen on Thursday. See Ms Tarth for details. Happy Holidays._

Brienne truly wished she had begged off the CPS Sevenmas party. Rather than a fancy restaurant or a gastro-pub, their holiday party was in _Snakeskin,_ a Dornish wine bar. The waitstaff dressed as if the Citadel hadn't declared winter three months ago, and the drinks were so potent it could knock Brienne's Wildling set-up for six. But that was what happened when Catelyn went to the Vale for an early Sevenmas with her sister, leaving Randyll Tarly in charge. No Cat meant Brienne was surrounded by the colleagues that mocked her behind closed doors, the colleagues that looked up to her and not just because of her height, and the newest addition to the CPS. 

Jaime Lannister. 

They left work together; arrived at the bar together. Jaime even bought her a drink, ignoring Cat's money in favour of his own. Then, rather than mingle with his new colleagues, Jaime sat in a booth beside her: one arm slung over the vinyl back; his fingertips brushing the material of her shirt. He drew comforting circles on her shoulder as Tarly made a toast to the Gods and the good work they did, pointedly looking at Jaime as he did so. Then, some of the most prominent legal minds in all Seven Kingdoms proceeded to get _absolutely_ shit-faced. 

“So, this is how the other half celebrates Sevenmas.” 

Brienne winced as one of her colleagues loudly suggested a drinking game; another groped one of the waitstaff bringing them drinks. "It’s not normally this bad, but Cat wasn't in charge this year.” They both watched as the man who _was_ in charge openly gazed at the breasts of one of their colleagues. For Sevenmas, Brienne had asked the Gods and the Great Giant for Randyll Tarly to discover the joy of private practice. “What are LLM Sevenmas parties like?” 

“Open bar. Expensive appetisers. Live band. My uncle Kevan dresses up as the Great Giant and gives out bonus cheques. I usually spend it in my office, finishing up casework.” 

Brienne frowned. Jaime had only been with the CPS for a few days; he’d signed his new contract at the Stark Sevenmas party the week before. “So why did you come to ours?” 

He shrugged. “I think it would be strange if you went to a Sevenmas party this year without me.” 

The heat of the bar, and Jaime's words, brought a deep pink flush to her cheeks. She reached for the water on the table; her teeth clinking against the glass. How had it come to be that, at every party this year, Jaime was there? How, at every party, had he come to find her underneath the mistletoe and leave her with a kiss that stirred her senses and turned her entire world upside down? And this party was no exception. When Jeyne, one of the paralegals, began waving a sprig of mistletoe over everyone in the group, Jaime acquiesced with a chaste kiss to her cheek. 

His white knuckle grip on the table was the only hint of his restraint. 

VI

> **LANNISTER LION MISSING PAW**
> 
> _The annual Lannister Sevenmas party is the jewel of societal events this time of year. Once hosted by fearsome attorney Tywin Lannister and his philanthropic wife, it is Lannister and his sister, socialite Genna Frey, who runs the show now. The black-tie affair is a whos-who of King's Landing, but one guest who won't be in attendance is Tywin's eldest son and heir, Jaime Lannister. He made shockwaves earlier this month by leaving his family's firm, Lannister, Lannister, and Marbrand, in favour of the Crown Prosecution Service. Hopefully, he'll find alternative plans._

Returning from a meeting with a detective inspector, Brienne found Jaime hovering at her desk. It still felt odd to have him work by her side after _years_ of working against each other. But a _good_ odd: he made her better; he made them _all_ better to see the other side of the picture rather than the blind call to justice. She liked to think she helped him, too. After all, Brienne had never seen him so at peace. The line of his shoulders was no longer rigid. He smiled more than she had ever seen: broad, genuine smiles that filled her with warmth. 

Now, however, he was fretting, frowning; running a hand through the golden strands that Brienne had long accepted she wanted to sift and stroke and seize. She wanted other things, too, but despite the fact that they had kissed _five times_ now, it still seemed so far out of reach. “Jaime, are you okay?” 

“I am. Sort of. Tonight is the annual Lannister Sevenmas party." Oh. "I’ve been blackballed, but my brother – who’s been the black sheep for years – is hosting his own. He’s asked me to come.” 

“Okay.”

“Tyrion’s friends are...we don’t really run in the same circles. Do you think–could you—”

“Yes.”

Which was how Brienne Tarth found herself attending her sixth Sevenmas party of the season as Jaime Lannister’s not-quite date. Still, it _felt_ like a date. After they finished work, Brienne dressed into something more casual before Jaime picked her up in his sports car. They both hummed along to the songs on the radio; Jaime's hands clenched around the wheel as _All I Want for Sevemmas Is You_ played. His hand was on the small of her back as they walked up the steps to Tyrion's building. Jaime smiled, and winked, as the lift reached his brother's floor. Kept her close as they were assaulted by his brother's party. The music was loud enough to piss off the neighbours on the ground floor; the alcohol strong enough to rob people of their senses; the place packed to push people together. 

And the bowl of peppermint flavoured condoms didn’t help, either. 

“This is—”

“—worse than all Seven Hells, I agree.” Jaime lifted his head above the partygoers, saw that his brother was occupied, and took Brienne’s hand. “Want to go somewhere quieter?” 

“More than anything.” 

Jaime held her hand as they navigated their way through the crowd and out of view. They then headed up a narrow staircase, where he lifted a panel in the ceiling and brought Brienne up to the second floor of Tyrion’s apartment, which was significantly quieter than below. Still holding her hand, Jaime took her into his brother’s extensive library. Sevenmas decorations covered the room. Unlike the ones downstairs, however, these were vintage; losing their colour but none of their charm. 

“These were my mothers. Tyrion took them when he moved out; he didn’t want anything to happen them. Look—” He pointed above him. “Mistletoe bunting.” 

“We should kiss then,” Brienne blurted; eyes widening immediately as she realised what she'd said. 

The delight blooming across Jaime's face immediately put paid to her doubts. He closed the gap between them. “Couldn’t have put it better myself.” 

Jaime’s hands then cradled her face as he leaned in and kissed her. This was no firm touch of the lips; no chaste kiss to the cheek. This was passionate, all-consuming; Jaime’s tongue pressing against the seam of her lips for entrance and _fuck_ Brienne granted it. His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling Brienne closer; her hand stroked the curve of his cheek before carding through his hair. Jaime’s lips were warm, slightly chapped, tasting of peppermint. His groan when her tongue stroked his would ring in her ears for _days;_ her hands would remember the firm muscle of his chest, the heat radiating through his shirt, as she touched his torso. 

He pulled away at the contact, only to steal another kiss from her mouth. Jaime offered her a languid grin. “Seven mistletoe plants. Do you think that made seven kisses?”

“One more, just to cover our bases.” 

“Good call, Tarth.”

And then they were kissing, and Brienne never wanted to stop. 

VII

> **From Jaime:** _Can't wait for tonight._

Jaime's Sevenmas party was full of uncertainty. 

He had invited her yesterday, the last day of work before Sevenmas. Cat had given him the empty desk beside hers, so Jaime had simply leaned over and said, " _I’m having a party tomorrow. Small, intimate. Will you come? "_ Brienne had said yes without even thinking. It's not like she had any plans for the early days of Sevenmas: her shopping was finished, Cat was back up North, and her father wouldn't get to King's Landing until the fourth day; work impossibly busy this time of year. So, she could spend the first night at Jaime’s house. Just the evening. Not the–not the _night._ They weren't in a relationship, after all. Not even after Tyrion's party, where they had kissed until her lips were swollen, his eyes were dark, and Brienne was _sure_ the hardness in Jaime’s trousers was _not_ his keys or a rolled-up law journal. 

They hadn't even _talked_ about the kiss. Kisses. How Brienne wanted to kiss him again. 

But Jaime didn't look at her like he hated it, hated _her_. His smiles were still warm, and he still kept close. But their colleagues were around, and everyone was desperate to finish their caseloads at this time of year. _Maybe that was it. Maybe Jaime wants to talk about the kiss at his party rather than at the office._ It was enough to give her hope, but not enough to quell her doubts. So Brienne turned to a friend for help.

> _I've been invited to a party by someone I like. What do I do?_
> 
> **From Margaery:** _WHO IS IT????_
> 
> _Jaime Lannister._
> 
> **From Margaery:** _The Golden Lion. HOT. Okay, here's what u do, B. Turn up early in that blue dress w/no underwear. JL will cancel party in favour of giving u a 7mas gift. The gift of his golden cock._
> 
> _I am NOT wearing the dress I bought for R &L's wedding, it is FAR too short. Nor, Margaery Tyrell, will I go to a party without underwear. What would your grandmother say to that suggestion??_
> 
> **From Margaery:** _Who do u think told me to say it?? First night of 7mas; G's here to celebrate. What do u think bout no dress, just coat?_

In the end, Brienne was strong-armed into wearing the sapphire dress that cut across her thighs and revealed the muscles in her upper arms. But she _did_ wear underwear, and a knee-length coat in case she was over-dressed for Jaime's intimate shindig. She wrung her hands in the taxi over to Jaime's apartment. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as she took in the grandeur; the doorman outside. He nodded at her as she entered; apparently, he’d been made aware that Mister Lannister was entertaining guests. In the lift, her hand shook as she pressed the button for the seventh floor, the penthouse. Brienne rode up with instrumental Sevenmas songs playing; the tinny sound doing nothing to improve her nerves. As the doors opened, her ears strained for any sounds of music, friendly small talk, familiar voices. _Nothing._

The door to his apartment opened before she could even approach. Jaime, dressed in a burgundy shirt with a gold tie, grinned. “You’re here.” 

“Am I the first?”

“The only,” he said, taking her hand and leading her over the threshold. “I told you it was small, intimate. It’s just us. Is that okay?”

Brienne nodded. She fumbled with the buttons of her coat and pulled it from her shoulders. Jaime gaped at her; throat undulating. _That was a good sign._ “I wasn’t sure what to wear. I hope I’m not overdressed.”

“Not at all.” Jaime’s hands brushed her bare shoulders, trailing down her arms. He then stared at her, at her lips. “Can I kiss you? Without mistletoe?” 

Brienne's teeth buried themselves in her bottom lip. She couldn't believe this was happening. At the start of the festive season, she and Jaime had been tolerable acquaintances. Now, she just wanted his lips on hers. “ _Yes_.”

“Good, because I spent all day trying to find some but everywhere is sold out and, _Brienne,_ I really want to kiss you.” 

This time, it was Brienne who initiated their kiss. Grabbed that golden tie and yanked Jaime forward; one hand knotting in the material while the other stroked his hair. She kissed the corner of his mouth, enjoying his slight intake of breath. The next kiss was firm, deepening as Jaime’s hands planted themselves on her hips. Then it was all tongues and teeth; nips and sucks. Their gasps and groans joined the low hum of carols coming from Jaime’s speakers; the squeak of the sofa as they moved their embraces to a more comfortable position. They kissed until Jaime's romantic dinner burned and set off the smoke alarm. They kissed after Jaime raised a Sevenmas toast over their Myrish takeout. They kissed when Jaime told her the realisation he'd had at the beginning of the holiday season: how he didn’t want to spend another at his father’s firm, or without more of _Brienne_ in his life. 

They kissed again the following morning, as Brienne woke in Jaime's bed. It was soft, sweet, and full of promise for the new year ahead. 


End file.
